Carb Intervention

So, yesterday, I was sitting at work enjoying a delicious bagel during our morning slow time. I had slathered it with cream cheese and was minding my own business and enjoying pure carbohydrate heaven.

Then someone came and brought his fist down and crushed my bagel.

Well, not literally. But he might as well have.

One of our customers was sitting at the counter. When he noticed me sitting there devouring my bagel, he said something to me that I couldn't hear. I assumed he asked what I was eating and I gleefully held my bagel in the air and said, "Bagel!"

He shook his head slightly and came and sat down across from me. The following is the conversation as I recall it (my blood sugar levels had spiked from the bagel, see):

"Hey, you know I could get you in shape in like a month." I think he also snapped his fingers to show just how quick he could transform my fat ass slightly chubby body into something off the cover of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition.

I stared at him while I finished chewing. "But... I love carbs."

He must have expected I'd say this. "Sure, sure. Carbs are great. I love bread. You just have to avoid it. Eat lots of protein, eggs and vegetables."

I took another bite of my bagel and stared harder. "But... I don't even keep bread at home. A bagel just sounded good! And I'm not giving up my alcohol! And sometimes I just CRAVE carbs." My voice had started to take on that whiny tone I usually reserve for when I want someone to rub my back or let me see their MP3 player.

He took my admittance to experiencing carb cravings to mean I was also admitting to being an alcoholic. "There's a supplement you can get for that. It helps with the carb cravings. They use it to help alcoholics sometimes." (I cannot for the life of me remember the supplement he named.)

I asked if I could easily get said supplement at any drugstore, thinking it WOULD be nice not to lust after toast and fried potatoes. He waved his hand and said he could get me some if I needed it, and then he reiterated that it would make me crave alcohol less.

He wasn't hearing me. "I don't CRAVE alcohol. Sometimes I just want it. I'm not an alcoholic." I thought of my beloved wine that I'd consumed the night before. Mmmmm...

He wasn't buying this. "Oh, yeah? When was the last time you drank?"

Last night. "I don't remember."

"Was it last night?"

Yes. "No."

"The night before?"

No. Ha! I was telling the truth. Ish. "No. I guess the last time I drank was Saturday, at the concert." And while I was getting ready for the concert. And at dinner.

He asked how much I drank the night of the concert.

Shots of vodka and lots of beer. "Um... I don't know... maybe a beer or two? Oh, and one shot because, you know, it was a concert." Then I felt a little defensive and thought I should point out one of his vices. "Hey! You drink too!!"

He nodded. "Yep, and I can admit it. You can't."

Psh. What was this, an interrogation? A Carb Intervention? I crammed the rest of the bagel in my mouth and the conversation was over.

And before you think this person is a total asshole, let me tell you that he is one of the nicest, most laid back and genuine people I have ever met and I know he did not mean to hurt my feelings in any way, shape or form.

Plus, if he thinks I'm an alcoholic then he's an enabler because he's bought me shots before.

Still, his words irked me. I started to wonder if I was really in such bad shape that people just look at me and think, "Ugh. Alcoholic carb junkie blob face!" or something along those lines.

I get it: I've gained some weight. I don't really like exercise. And I adore desserts of any kind. And beer. I don't have a boyfriend right now and you would THINK this would make me want to be sure I look good to attract one but I actually feel just the opposite (I've become pretty apathetic about romance these days, you see).

After he left, just to spite him I ate a bag of potato chips with some pickles and ranch dressing.

That'll teach him to try and do a Carb Intervention on THIS girl.